Chapter 4 - Lost And Found

The moment Kris left for his own class, Sky knew he was in trouble.

Not because he was scared.

Not because he was nervous.

But because the university campus was enormous.

And he had absolutely no idea where he was going.

"Studio Building, second floor," Kris had said before leaving.

"That's it?"

"What else do you need?"

"Map."

Kris had looked offended.

"You have me."

That should have been Sky's first warning.

Now, twenty minutes later, Sky stood in front of a building that definitely looked like an art block… but he wasn’t entirely sure.

The sign read:

Fine Arts Studio Block

Sky relaxed a little.

At least this time, he was in the right area.

Probably.

Inside, the building smelled like paint, paper, and something faintly chemical.

Canvases leaned against walls.

Sketches were pinned everywhere.

Students walked around carrying portfolios twice their size.

Sky felt slightly more at ease.

This… felt like his world.

He adjusted his bag and followed the signs toward Studio 2B.

But instead of a drawing studio, he walked into a large room filled with easels and half-finished sculptures.

He paused.

“…Wrong room.”

Before he could leave, the door shut behind him.

A lecturer entered.

Perfect.

Ten minutes later, Sky realized something was wrong.

Everyone was carving stone.

Or clay.

Or something extremely not drawing-related.

Sky slowly raised his hand.

The lecturer looked at him.

“Yes?”

“…I think I’m in the wrong class.”

The room went silent.

The lecturer checked his list.

“You are...?”

"Sky Thanawat"

“Huhh.... This is Sculpture Fundamentals.”

Sky blinked.

“I was supposed to be in Drawing & Painting.”

A pause.

Then the lecturer pointed at the door.

“Wrong floor.”

By the time Sky escaped the sculpture room, his dignity had officially been reshaped like one of their clay projects.

Outside the building, Sky leaned against the wall.

His first proper class of Fine Arts hadn’t even started.

And he was already lost.

Wonderful.

His phone buzzed.

Kris: Survived your first class?

Sky stared at the screen.

Then typed:

Sky: I entered sculpture.

Almost instantly—

Kris: 😭😭😭

Kris: YOU WHAT?

Sky didn’t even get a chance to respond before the call came.

He sighed and answered.

“Yes"

“YOU WENT TO SCULPTURE?!”

Sky pulled the phone slightly away from his ear.

“Kris—”

“That’s not even your course!”

“I know.”

“Then WHY were you there?”

“I got lost.”

A pause.

Then—

Kris burst out laughing.

Loud.

Uncontrollable.

The kind of laughter that made people around Sky turn and stare.

“I left you alone for ONE hour,” Kris said between laughs, “and you managed to major in sculpture accidentally.”

Sky sighed.

“Give it time.”

Sky closed his eyes.

He could already regret this friendship.

Later that day, Kris insisted on meeting him outside the Fine Arts building.

When Sky arrived, Kris was already there—leaning against a wall, looking way too satisfied with himself.

“So,” Kris said, grinning. “Sculpture boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Fine.”

Kris crossed his arms.

“Drawing boy.”

“That’s not better.”

“It is to me.”

Sky sighed.

Kris walked him properly this time.

No wrong turns.

No fake confidence.

Just actual guidance—shocking for someone like him.

“This is your building,” Kris said.

Sky looked up.

Paint-stained walls.

Large glass windows.

Students inside sketching quietly.

This… felt right.

For the first time that day, Sky felt something settle in his chest.

Maybe this was where he was supposed to be.

Later, after classes, they walked back together.

Sky held his sketchbook tightly.

Kris noticed.

“You draw?”

Sky nodded.

“Let me see.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“No."

Kris placed a hand on his chest dramatically.

“I am deeply offended.”

“You’ll survive.”

Kris grinned.

“Room 306 survives everything.”

Sky glanced at him.

“It is where I live.”

Sky shook his head.

But this time…

He didn’t feel as alone walking back.

Not at all.

And neither of them noticed that this was the first day Sky actually felt like he belonged somewhere.

Sky looked at him.

Kris shrugged.

“I just talk too much.”

A short silence.

Then Kris smiled again, softer this time.

“But it’s good.”

Sky didn’t respond.

He just held the sketchbook tighter.

The walk back to Room 306 felt different.

Not loud like the morning.

Not confusing like campus.

Just… quieter.

Sky walked slightly ahead, his sketchbook pressed tightly against his chest like a shield. Kris followed behind him, hands in his pockets, humming something completely off-key.

“You know,” Kris said suddenly, “I always knew you were suspicious.”

Sky didn’t turn.

“I'm not.”

“You hide books.”

“It’s a sketchbook.”

“Same thing.”

Sky stopped walking.

Kris almost bumped into him.

“What now?” Kris asked.

Sky turned slowly.

“Give it back.”

Kris blinked.

“…Still?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

Then Kris sighed dramatically and pulled it out from his bag.

“Fine. But you’re no fun.”

Sky grabbed it immediately.

Kris watched him for a second, then tilted his head.

“You get embarrassed easily.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

Kris smiled.

“You’re red right now.”

Sky froze.

He turned away and kept walking.

Kris laughed behind him.

By the time they reached the apartment building, the sun was already beginning to set.

Room 306 sat quietly at the end of the corridor.

Sky stared at the number for a second longer than usual.

It still felt new.

Still unfamiliar.

Kris pulled out his keys and jingled them.

“Welcome home,” he said casually.

Sky glanced at him.

“…Don’t say it like that.”

“Why?”

“It sounds strange.”

Kris unlocked the door anyway.

“Too late.”

The door opened with a soft click.

Inside, the apartment was exactly how Sky remembered it.

Too quiet.

Too clean.

Too alive in a way that still didn’t feel like his.

Kris kicked off his shoes first.

Sky followed slower, more careful.

The sketchbook was still in his hands.

Kris noticed immediately.

“Oh, you’re still guarding that thing like it’s national treasure.”

“It is mine.”

“I know.”

Sky walked toward his room.

But before he could enter, Kris called out again.

“Hey.”

Sky paused.

Kris leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him.

“I’m not making fun of it.”

That evening, Sky dropped his bag quietly beside his bed.

Room 306 was unusually calm.

For once, Kris wasn’t talking.

That alone felt suspicious.

Sky stepped out to the living room and froze.

Kris was sitting on the floor.

Surrounded by papers.

Sketches.

And Sky’s sketchbook.

“…Kris.”

Kris looked up slowly.

Then smiled.

“Oh. Hi, Picasso.”

Sky’s eyes widened.

“Why do you have that?”

Kris lifted the sketchbook carefully like it was sacred.

“I found it.”

“You don’t ‘find’ people’s sketchbooks.”

“I do now.”

Sky walked over quickly.

“Give it back.”

Kris flipped a page.

Then another.

Then another.

Silence.

Sky’s ears slowly turned red.

“…Stop.”

Kris leaned back dramatically.

“I didn’t know you were like this.”

Sky blinked.

“Like what?”

Kris grinned.

“This is actually good.”

“…You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Sky paused.

That was worse.

Kris suddenly pointed at one of the drawings.

A soft sketch of a lonely figure standing under rain.

“This one.”

Sky didn’t answer.

Kris looked up at him.

“You draw feelings.”

“…No I don’t.”

“You literally just drew sadness in human form.”

Sky reached for the sketchbook again.

“Give it back.”

Kris held it above his head.

“No.”

Sky frowned.

“Kris.”

“Sky.”

A pause.

Then Kris suddenly softened his voice.

“…You’re kind of amazing, you know.”

Sky froze.

That tone was rare.

Too rare.

So of course Kris ruined it immediately.

“Don’t worry,” he added, smiling again, “I won’t tell anyone my roommate is secretly emotional.”

Sky snatched the sketchbook back.

“I regret meeting you.”

Kris gasped.

“After I fed you breakfast?!”

Sky walked away.

Kris laughed behind him.

And for the first time—

Sky didn’t feel embarrassed for long.

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